Matatu Chronicles (Tale 2)

Continued………

……………….(Ssebbo I have been robbed). “My wallet has been stolen. If you decide to kick me out of the taxi now, please do. I won’t even say a word.” I expect to be thrown out but we keep driving on and luckily towards my destination but each time the conductor turns back and looks me straight in the face with a blank stare very expressionless and I wonder what he is thinking. After a long silence in the taxi except for the buzzing of it’s engine and the other traffic on the road. The conductor says, “Nyabo kasta onzijukila notamvuma lumu mu kubo” (Lady as long as you promise to remember this face when you meet me again someday and never insult me). I let out a mighty audible sigh. I am even scared to tell him we are almost close to my stop. Conductors are known to have a sharp tongue. In such a case, a conductor would have insulted me, everyone of my relatives and anyone I’ve ever come in contact with. Or even grab me by the collar and demand for me to pay up. On extreme cases one can get thumped or undressed. They are lethal. I meekly tell the conductor my stop and the taxi comes to a halt. Fumbling with all my things I hop out singing all the “thank yous” my mouth could ever spew out in a second. He smiles and they drive off. All this while I hardly realized I was holding my breath.

The story however doesn’t end there. My life resumed normally. I learned to keep loose change just in case. That incident was embarrassing enough for me to let it occur again. I lost valuables, my ATM card, ID card and others. I reported the loss of my ATM and ID to police. It’s important to, you never know what crime scene your ID appears from one day. It’s just a precautionary move. In such cases it’s totally okay to be paranoid and assume whatever.

Two weeks later, I received a phone call from a number I couldn’t tell. The gentleman behind the line introduced himself and said he picked up my wallet from the Old Taxi Park. And that he had found a MTN mobile money form that had been filled in which showed a telephone number and he randomly called. I was baffled and thought perhaps this was the same stupid pickpocket who was trying to play nice for another reward. So I hang up and ignored any calls from the number for a while. What amused and surprised me though is that the gentleman persistently kept calling. And one day after having enough of the endless phone calls I answered again. The man behind the line politely assured me that he was no thief and that all he wanted was to give back my wallet because he had figured I might really need the cards that were in it. I told him I would plan to meet up with him just to get him off my back.

A month down, all is forgotten about the wallet and this man calls again. He asked to meet up on a Sunday in Bugolobi as he worked in one of the many warehouses on Luthuli Avenue. After so much thought, I gave in. He requested that I wait for him at the Bata shoe factory a street away from the warehouse he worked in as he would be on his way back from church. I stood fanning myself from the afternoon heat and then my phone rang. So I figured the caller would be one of the passersby.  I stood looking out see to anyone walking towards me who was talking on phone. Then I saw a man on a scooter and he was on phone. He rode up close and stopped on the other side of the road and waved across. I crossed the road to meet him. We exchanged pleasantries while I waited for him to pull out the wallet and hand it over to me. He surprisingly asks me to get on the scooter after removing his bible that he had strapped on the passenger seater. Then we headed towards the warehouse. To be on the safe side, I had called one of my friends earlier with whom I had shared with everything about all that had transpired and our meeting with this stranger. One can never be too sure. At the warehouse I was glad to see three other people on site even if they were only men. This gentleman gives me a chair and we sit outside the warehouse with its roof casting a perfect shade from the hot afternoon sun. More pleasantries were exchanged and thirty minutes later he gets up, goes inside and comes out with a wallet which he hands over to me and there’s no doubt that it is mine. Most of its contents looked muddy and of course no money in sight. The pickpocket after taking out what he wanted just discarded it. The gentleman had tried his best to clean up much of the mud and it was evident. He had earlier on mentioned that that wasn’t the first time he had picked another person’s property and gone all out of his way to give it back. He has picked up a bag with a huge sum of money and had traced the owner for over a year till he found him. I was humbled and left in awe that such genuinely fantastic human beings live. And to even think he didn’t want to take any kind of compensation for his time. I insisted to at least compensate his phone credit for all the times he called. I couldn’t have been more than grateful that day and very happy that he accepted the very little for his time.

Now I am only glad that after so much time, such events still play out in my head. I might never recognize the faces of those two extremely kind gentlemen but the faces of their kindness have forever been imprinted in my heart and mind. Wherever each one of them is I pray that God showers them with all the blessings they deserve for such good souls. To anyone who has ever extended to me a helping hand and any kind gesture, I forever thank you and forever remain indebted to you.  Cheers to a productive and beautiful NOVEMBER! PEACE AND LOVE……………….XOXO